Swiftcurrent Creek [m] I can feel the city crumbling around me

She leaned forward, as though seduced by Reverie's very aura, only to be denied touch when the gilded woman stepped back. Her apology drew a breath from Moss, who accepted it reluctantly. While she didn't know what Reverie's relationship was with Lestan, she understood what boundaries were. And while it would have satisfied her more to pluck the fretting woman from his grasp and treat her to a warm hearth where she would never know regret, she felt it wouldn't be an honest thing to do...

Until Reverie voiced that she felt afraid. 

Lestan be damned. Moss moved forward with an assured step, and drew the woman into her embrace, with a tenderness surprising of someone of her size. The mountain softened, like craggy hillsides carpeted with a layer of velvety snow. She bent like a willow tree to cradle the woman and cloak her from sight, allowing only small tufts of her sunny fur to peek through the few gaps in Moss's trunk-like legs.